


May We Meet Someday In Rome

by fElBiTeR



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: 104th Training Corps - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Erwin Finally Gets To Know, Fluff, Gen, High School Student Eren Yeager, Manga Spoilers, Reincarnation, What's In Eren Yeager's Basement
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:40:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22770373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fElBiTeR/pseuds/fElBiTeR
Summary: "Who am I, then?" the man asks, the smallest tilt of his lips upward visible.“You're Erwin Smith, the 13th commander of the Scouting Legion, a well respected man, an excellent strategist, and the best possible person to be commander after the fall of Wall Maria!" Eren blurts."Is there truly no one else who remembers?" Erwin questions, and Eren nods to confirm it.No one else remembers, until trouble finds Eren like it always does, and he's saved by a familiar face. Then, everyone starts to remember, and it becomes increasingly difficult to keep his secrets under wraps.
Relationships: Erwin Smith & Eren Yeager
Comments: 13
Kudos: 54





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> purely self indulgent! it initially began when I was like "there's no fic where erwin finally learns about what's in that damned basement?" so this was born!
> 
> ... and then I threw in a whole bunch of other useless things into the pot,,,
> 
> I know people generally don't usually read gen snk fics, especially when the focus of the fic is on these two, so this fic definitely won't be read by more than maybe three people, but if you found your way here, I hope you enjoy!

_“There is no future where humanity can inhabit these lands without Eren!” Someone is shouting, far off. Eren blinks, but he has no eyes, his senses are heavy. His arms tug at something, but to no avail._

_Oh, Eren thinks, dazedly. I remember. The ground shakes below him, but it isn’t ground, and he isn’t grounded. He’s… attached to the back of something tall. Someone tall. Someone.... Bertholdt, and they’re on the Armored Titan, surrounded by a horde of regular and aberrant titans._

_Mikasa screams. She’s in the hand of a titan, squeezing, squeezing, and then it loses its eyes, too, and she’s free._

_Annie. Someone is talking about Annie, about torturing her, about how you can’t ever forget pain even if your body can heal, more torture. Bertholdt rises in anger._

_A beat._

_One heavy scream, one heavy slash, and Reiner loses his thumb._

_Who…?_

_A man, a blond man._

_Anger, anger, anger, surges on the man’s face, suddenly below Eren, someone who’s usually not expressive at all, angry, darkened expression, narrowed eyebrows and gritted teeth, bloody and a mess and missing a right arm, swinging down with an impossible grace and balance and anger._

_Because Reiner and Bertholdt have hurt humanity. Because they have taken Eren._

_The blond man falls, and though Eren is swept away by Mikasa and the man himself is fully capable, Eren still reaches an arm out to him, only to begin to slip forward himself..._

Eren jolts violently and smacks his head against the wall his bed is pushed up beside with a muffled groan. He rubs the sore spot on his forehead and hisses when it throbs. There’s probably going to be a bruise there, later.

This isn’t the first time this has happened, and he’s been telling himself that he should maybe get some cushioning for the wall.

“Eren,” Mikasa appears in the doorway. “Breakfast.” Erens nods in acknowledgment, exhaling when she leaves. 

The year is currently 2020 and no titans exist. 

One day in elementary school, Eren got a high fever that should have boiled his brains in his skull and killed him as a child. It didn’t and instead gave him violent images of people and death, so vivid that it _must_ have been real, these images of another life, of large and violent humanoid monsters and anger and death and loss.

Eren completes his morning ritual mindlessly, doing everything he needs to do in the bathroom, including lazily donning his school uniform. He tests names in front of the mirror. “Reiner. Bertholdt.” They feel heavy in his mouth.

He sleepily trudges downstairs and plops down into a chair, beginning to eat his breakfast, ignoring the ongoing conversation his family is having until the subject turns into academics. Eren’s mood drops almost immediately, the way one might accidentally fall off Wall Maria, plummeting down.

One of the worst things about his school is that they mail major grades home.

“Mikasa, good job!” Eren’s father says with a wide grin. Eren angrily shoves a spoonful of cold soup into his mouth, glaring at the tests in his father’s hands. In one hand, Mikasa’s perfect 49/49, and in the other, Eren’s 44.5/49.

The soup is bland. The soup is always bland, yesterday, today, tomorrow, _always_.

“Eren, how many times have I told you that you’ll never get anything done if you keep slacking off like this,” his father’s expression grows disappointed, disapproving. Eren gives him a dark look in return. This life is so much more different than his last one. No one would have cared about small things like grades when anyone could die any day. When everyone could die any day. Eren can’t find himself really _caring_.

Eren hasn’t found Grisha Yeager in this life.

“Oh, don’t give him that look, Eren. He’s just looking out for you!” Eren’s mother scolds. Eren hasn’t found Carla Yeager, either. He likes to think that the two of them have a happy life this time around, without dying early nor needing to deal with Eren.

Mikasa is quiet. 

Mikasa is always quiet, something completely different this time around. Eren misses the old Mikasa, who would playfully chide him and baby him around like his mother. He almost even missed the way she was always glued to his side and would refuse to let him do anything on his own. He misses her so much that the back of his throat burns just thinking about it.

Eren isn’t close to this Mikasa, this Mikasa who hasn’t watched Armin get burnt to the bone, who hasn’t seen Eren at his lowest, who hasn’t saved Eren a countless amount of times from his own brash stupidity. Maybe this Mikasa is holding it all in. Maybe it will all blow up one day.

“You’re grounded,” he suddenly hears his father say. 

“That’s not _fair_!” Eren cries. “I still passed with an A!” Something enraged boils beneath his skin. It’s the anger from a harder, calloused life.

“Your A would have been higher if you had spent time studying instead of doing who knows what you do after school,” his father retorts. 

“You’re not doing drugs, are you, Eren?”

“ _Mom_!” Eren protests.

“After school, you have to return straight home for the next two months or until you raise your grade up,” his father states simply. “And I’m talking about that C you have in World History.”

Mikasa watches in silence.

Eren can’t win. He can’t help that the history is so different he can barely tell it apart.

***

“Shut it, horse face,” Eren grumbles, shoving Jean in the shoulder. He leans back against the single closed door to the classroom, both his palms rubbing at his tired eyes.

“It’s not my fault your dreams are so unrealistic,” Jean shoots back, adjusting the collar of his dark blue, almost black, uniform. Despite how close it is to the start of first period, there’s no teacher yet. They’ve had substitutes for the past two months, because the school hasn’t been able to get ahold of a new teacher.

Apparently, their permanent homeroom teacher is supposed to come in today.

The same goes for their history teacher, which explains why Eren is almost failing the class. He can’t focus on the boring and lackluster droning of substitutes who don’t care at all about the material they’re teaching.

“It actually happened,” Eren says softly. He couldn’t have made it all up by himself, the blood, the violence, the fear, the _anger_. And toward the end, a hollowness from the death of so many, he remembers, and years before that, the salt of the ocean, yet no peace. How many people had to die for them to get there? All the unnamed survey corps members who were killed by titans, all of Levi’s previous squad, eradicated. His mom, his dad, Hannes. And how many more, afterward?

Jean scoffs. “The most unbelievable part is that _you_ were humanity’s last hope.” Jean never stops pestering him about how fake everything Eren’s spouting sounds, yet he also never stops continually asking Eren questions about who lived and how they lived and if Jean ever looked bad-ass. 

Eren sighs. He’s tried for many years convincing himself that these foreign memories were fake, maybe even wild dreams his brain made up as a negative side effect of the fever, but he knew people in this vague other world before he actually met them now. For example, Eren didn’t meet Jean until his first year of junior high, and they clashed the way they did in Eren’s memories, angry and unable to work together at first, but he already knew about the other boy’s existence before actually meeting him, his name, his personality, his horse face. What else could it be but real?

“Were you in a fight?” Jean suddenly asks.

“What?” Eren stares blankly at the other boy. Jean points at his own forehead, mirroring Eren.

“Oh, that.” Eren bites his lower lip. “I hit the wall again.” Jean breaks into wild, raucous laughter, as if he were already expecting that answer. Jean knows exactly what Eren means when he says that he hit the wall again. He knows exactly _which_ wall Eren is referring to, as well.

Everything in this life is too quiet, too slow. Mundane. Eren finds himself unable to sit still for longer durations of time, feeling twitchy and paranoid at the small possibility that he’s dreaming and that he’ll wake up any moment only be sliding into a titan’s throat, or successfully captured by Zeke and flayed to his knees by the Marleyans, or maybe he’ll wake up among a pile of corpses of faces who once knew him. Or maybe he’ll wake up in bed to Carla Yeager’s face warmly saying good morning with his dad and Mikasa downstairs. Maybe he’ll wake up chained underground surrounded by cautious Survey Corps glares, having been subject to experimentation this entire time. 

Though Eren has searched everywhere, he can’t find anything similar to the omni-directional mobility gear that he used like extra limbs, almost second nature to him. He misses the heavy weight of blades on his hips. He misses the unwavering wings of freedom against the forest green of a hooded cape on his back.

Worst of all, no one seems to remember anything but him.

Hanji, who teaches science, is something akin to an eccentric mad scientist. Levi now thinks Eren is a stalker, thanks to the impossible amount of unplanned times they’ve run into each other at completely unrelated locations.

Eren, desperate at the time for someone to know, for someone he could talk to, tried to insult Levi in all the ways he knew how to, making fun of his cleanliness, his height, his _mother_ , even taking a shot in the dark and assuming Kenny Ackerman was still his uncle to poke at his abandonment. To summarize, Levi didn’t appreciate any of it one bit, and was probably one second away from beating Eren into a bloody pulp in the middle of the street outside a coffee shop during the winter when, instead, Levi seemed as if he suddenly had a light bulb go off. Not the light bulb Eren was looking for, but still, a light bulb, and then looked at Eren in exasperation.

“Look, brat. I don’t know how you got all that information about me, but I’m not about to beat up a minor because you have daddy issues and need an outlet,” Levi said. Eren opened his mouth to retort, “Heichou—”

“—No. Don’t try to say anything else because I know the next words that are going to come out of your mouth are going to be garbage.” _Well,_ Eren thought, _he’s not wrong._ He was hoping that letting Levi beat him up would maybe jog the other man’s memory of that time in the courtroom.

“Also, stop calling me Heichou. It’s fucking creepy,” Levi remarked. They exchanged numbers anyway, out of the kindness of Levi’s heart. The most out of everyone, Eren had hoped Levi had remembered. Levi, who knew how to do everything and how to do it correctly. Levi, who pushed to fulfill his promise in taking out the Beast Titan and stuck to it up to his death, _my half-brother_ , a part of Eren choked down and smothered the thought. Levi, a guidance. Eren hoped so hard that Levi would remember.

No one did.

“I saved Mikasa?” Jean asks. “Did I look cool doing it?”

“You never look cool,” Eren mutters, eyes glued to his feet. Jean did look cool, many different times, whereas Eren mostly seemed like a disillusioned coward in the other world. Especially toward the end, when he had to push everyone away to enact what could be summarized as an inhumane plan.

“Oh my,” a familiar voice murmurs from behind Eren, cultured and smooth. “You probably shouldn’t stand there and block up the doorway. It’s a fire hazard, did you know?”

Eren spins around so fast at the voice that he almost gets whiplash. His eyes widen in pure shock, then he drowns out Jean’s babbled apologies in favor of zoning in on the man who appeared at the door.

The other man’s expression also freezes, mouth dropping slightly agape as soon as Eren turns around, and whatever the man was probably going to say next has completely fallen off the rails.

“E-Erw—” Eren stammers, unsuccessfully getting the name out of his mouth. For the first time in a long time, someone in the present that Eren’s seen from his past memories looks just as haunted as Eren. He hasn’t steeled himself to meet another person who played such a big role in his past life for a while, with the assumption that everyone he knows is already here, with him.

Eren is wrong.

The other man, blond and tall and seemingly German, is looking at Eren like he’s seeing the sun for the first time after being chained underground in the darkness for a century. Like he’s finally found the key to a basement. Like he can finally go down the basement. There in the man’s eyes is a visible voracity, a need to know, an unspoken demand, so unlike the stoic man Eren has admired in his memories. No, not unlike the man. Very much like the man, at the peak of intensity.

His name is—

“—Erwin Smith and I will be both your homeroom and World History teacher,” Erwin directs to the entire class, seemingly brushing off the shock from only moments ago. “You may just address me as Sensei.” 

_There has to be some kind of irony in Erwin teaching history_ , Eren thinks, still struck into an uncharacteristic silence. _There has to be some irony in Erwin teaching at all._

“Sit down,” Erwin commands, an eyebrow raised. “Class has started.” Eren rushes to his seat with some feeling of desperate urgency, unlike Jean who is taking his time as Erwin sets his things down on the teacher’s desk. 

Erwin commands, raises his blade, roars for his soldiers to push forward, giving everything in their hearts, and his soldiers follow. Eren follows, gazing in wonder.

“Eren Yeager.” Erwin finally reaches his name on the attendance roster. The man says his name correctly.

“Here,” Eren responds loud and clearly, a hand raised as well. Erwin nods. 

Eren feels his neck flush as his hands settle back down, one on top his desk and one tucked under, on his lap, clenched into a tight fist.

It’s so strange, but he can’t get rid of the feeling, the warmth of being acknowledged by someone as high of a rank and as strong as Erwin, finally. His throat seizes up and the back of his eyes begins to sting.

He can’t hide any of his own reactions to kindness. To kindness from someone who might _remember_. Eren hasn’t gotten the chance to practice at home, after all. He shakes the thoughts of his parents from this life out of his head.

“Oi, Eren,” Jean whispers from behind Eren’s seat. “He got your last name right on the first try!”

 _Damn, I can’t get all weepy in first period already…!_ Eren blinks any moisture away quickly.

“I heard him, Jean,” Eren says, without turning his head to look back at the other boy. Eren’s heart races. Erwin could have gotten the pronunciation correctly simply because they both shared Germanic roots. It could just be a coincidence. Erwin probably looked surprised at the doorway because… because he wasn’t expecting two idiots to be blocking it up.

Eren tells his heart to slow back down, because this will turn out like every single other time he’s met someone from his fever dream world. He’ll subtly try to drop some hints about titans and the 104th regiment or about anything really, and then he moves on to being much more obvious and explicit, straight up asking them if they remember him and this past world. It never works, and sometimes, like in Jean’s case, they demand a full explanation of what the hell Eren’s talking about.

Though Jean knows some general details to Eren’s vivid dreams, he’s been spared from the gritty violence, the fear that stole any coherent thinking from thousands of soldiers, cutting off their control to their motor functions below their knees, been spared from the impassive killing of titans, morbid deaths, and of _Marco_ , who is Jean’s current best friend and maybe even something more.

It will be the same this time. Eren doesn’t want to be stuck feeling awkward with Erwin if he’s going to be Eren’s homeroom teacher this year.

 _Forget being a straightforward idiot_ , Eren sighs as the bells rings, signifying the end of homeroom. _Forget it._

Eren isn’t going to try dropping hints this time, either. Erwin doesn’t remember. Erwin won’t remember.

Eren leaves the classroom, almost last. He doesn’t notice the persistent gaze that never leaves the back of his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> something that always struck me in the scene described in eren's dream was how angry erwin looked as he rose up to slice reiner's thumb off to free eren from his hands? other than a few scenes, erwin rarely showed extreme emotions on his face. I mean, he does... but he also doesn't??? he was absolutely delighted(?) to learn that titans were possibly former humans, and he also looked really angry as he chopped reiner's thumb off to save eren,,, hmm... but he also did just get his arm bit off? but can we all agree on the fact that,, that shit was hardcore. he got his arm bit off, told his troops to keep going forward, yet in the end, it was HIM who ended up rescuing eren? with one arm, he was able to still use the omni-gear AND maneuver through the titans to get to reiner and cut eren free... and I would like to know HOW. yeah! I'm just rambling at this point. I really like erwin's character.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you at least,, somewhat enjoy this?

“The unwritten history of humanity has always been unclear,” Erwin concludes. “We call it prehistory, simply meaning ‘before writing’ and assume that humanity existed in the form of homosapiens who had only just developed intellect, when in truth, until we find any records besides preserved homosapien remains, prehistory will always be blurry and questionable.” He shuts the binder on his desk, full of his own notes, probably.

“For the rest of the class time, I would like to get to know you all a little better. Within the next five minutes, please brainstorm any goals, dreams, or aspirations you have,” Erwin comes out from behind his desk, positioning himself so that he’s right between the first row and the front of his desk.

 _Dreams…_ Eren wonders. _In this life?_

“Sensei, could you give us an example?” Connie requests, a hand raised.

“Of course,” Erwin replies, placing a hand flat on the table behind him. “My goals and my dreams were the same thing for a long time. My father was a teacher as well, so I grew up very much believing in the pursuit of knowledge. For the longest time, I wanted to confirm a theory about the world, to put it vaguely.” Eren bites down on his lower lip, _hard_. 

Thanks to Nile, the new Levi Squad knew Erwin’s story, after they reclaimed Wall Maria and Shiganshina. Nile was visibly hesitant at first, Levi absolutely silent the entire time, until Nile was done and gone.

Erwin gave up his dream to see the basement in order to stick to his duty. In the end, Levi said that Erwin couldn’t make up his mind, so he ultimately chose for the commander instead.

_“I’ll telling you all the same thing I told Floch,” Levi had explained, expression grim. “Erwin… had no choice but to become a devil. As the 13th commander of the Survey Corps, a shit ton of people died under him. What can people say about how he rose into command at such a dire time? Can we call it luck, or should we curse it? Honestly, who the fuck knows. In death, he was finally set free from hell, yet we still thought about bringing him back. Could you possibly forgive him? For wavering between his duty and his dream?”_

Eren had, at the time. But that was before the awards ceremony, in front of Historia. That was before the ocean. That was before Marley.

“—ion, Eren.”

By then, a small part of him wondered how different things would have turned out if they had the devil on their side, instead of Armin, but he shook the sentiment off quickly. _There was no point in dwelling on the past_ , Eren thought, then. He had to refocus on his goal of freedom for his friends. Freedom for the Eldians. Freedom for himself.

“Eren?”

Now, all Eren _can_ do is dwell on the past. 

“ _Eren Yeager_!” He hears the commander’s voice.

In a moment of exhausted weakness, Eren’s body reacts second nature to his name being spoken in that authoritative tone. He immediately stands up, the back of his knees pushing his wooden chair away with an unpleasant _screech,_ shifting his stance to salute the commander _,_ planting his right fist firmly against his chest, and then, “Erwin-danchou!”

A beat of astounded silence.

Snickers and guffaws erupt around him as Eren is brought back down to Earth, finally realizing that he zoned out _hard_ in the middle of class. 

“O-Oi, Eren,” Jean tries to say something, but fails to finish his sentence, obviously trying his hardest to not burst into bubbling fits of laughter. 

Eren feels his soul implode and his entire body catch on fire, burning in embarrassment. His face is probably redder than a tomato at this point, a deep red, and it feels just as hot. His cheeks flush and maybe the world isn’t supposed to look like it’s spinning...

“What kind of fucked up fantasies is he having? Already?” Jean whispers to Connie, from behind him. Eren wishes he had the strength to turn and glare at the both of them, but all he can do is quietly sit back down and sink into his chair, hoping it’ll swallow him up and spit him off a roof or into a sewer. That would be great. 

Eren used Erwin’s first name. Eren addressed him as commander. Eren saluted him in a way that’s been lost to prehistory.

Eren’s head droops low enough for his bangs to be blocking his eyes, but he sneaks a furtive glance around the room and freezes when his gaze lands on Erwin, who is stiff in surprise. His eyes are almost scarily, unblinkingly settled on Eren, in the exact same as he was for a few moments at the beginning of homeroom this morning. Not amusement. Not anger. Erwin looks as if he just heard some shocking information and is now stuck in denial, or at least processing it very, very slowly. 

And that piece of information is Eren. Doing the Survey Corps salute. 

_Holy crap,_ Eren thinks, forgetting his embarrassment and sobering up quickly. _He might actually be_ …

“Eren,” Erwin clears his throat. Several quiet fits of giggles come from behind Eren.

“Please see me after class.”

“Yes, sir,” Eren responds, quietly. He blinks once.

“And while we finally have your attention, could you please tell us what you’ve brainstormed? What are your dreams?” Erwin continues, the scarily intense expression still fixed on Eren.

“My dream is...” Eren pauses. _Kill all the titans. Free the Eldians._ “To be free.” _From my parents. From these memories._

Eren says nothing else. Apparently that’s good enough for Erwin to move onto another student and shift the class’s attention off of Eren.

For the remainder of class, Eren doesn’t zone out, instead choosing to pay attention when Erwin gives a quick overview of the class for this semester, handing out his itinerary.

Class passes quickly, and thanks to Erwin’s natural charismatic way of speaking, Eren has a much better time paying attention and retaining information.

In fact, class passes too quickly. World History is his last period of the day, and before he knows it, the bell signaling the end of the school day rings. Usually, several students would pick up their backpacks and walk straight out the door as soon as the bell hit, but today, everyone is surprisingly quiet, willing to stay back for a few minutes to listen to Erwin finish a short lecture on one of the earliest hominids, named Toumai of Chad, from about 6 million years ago. 

Though it conflicts with everything Eren has ever known, he decides that he doesn’t need to choose between the present and the past. He can keep one and learn the other, keeping them separated, as long as he can keep a line drawn so he doesn’t confuse himself.

“Class is dismissed.” Erwin’s strong, clear voice cuts across the silence of the class. Papers and notebooks rustle, chair and table legs screech against the floor, and groups of footsteps leave the classroom.

“Eren?” Jean calls, somewhere from behind Eren, though he can’t quite find the strength in him to meet Jean’s naive cheerfulness. “I’ll talk to you later?” 

A pair of footsteps walk away from him, out the door, and into the hallway.

Jean had been the final student in the classroom, besides Eren.

Eren jumps slightly when he hears the entrance door to the classroom being slammed shut. He lifts his head just in time to catch the tail end of Erwin locking it.

“Just a precaution,” Erwin states, turning the knob of the door to ensure that it’s locked.

“You always did like taking precautions,” Eren murmurs. He doesn’t move from where he’s seated.

“I did,” Erwin responds, solemnly. “But they failed anyway.”

“The Beast Titan,” Eren concludes, realizing what Erwin is referring to. 

Erwin nods. “And my own weakness.”

“It couldn’t have been helped,” Eren argues. “We didn’t know that the Beast Titan was going to be that strategic or smart. We didn’t know that he was going to decimate our troops so easily. We didn’t know that they had so much more up their sleeves. We didn’t know—”

“—Enough, Eren,” Erwin cuts him off. “Enough.” 

The man sighs, then perches himself on top of a desk, across from Eren’s, one hand under his chin in a thinking position.

 _Teachers shouldn’t be sitting on desks_ , Eren thinks, absentmindedly.

“You lived past the encounter, then?” Erwin suddenly asks. Eren’s jaw almost drops on surprise, but he composes himself quickly.

“How did you know, sir?” Eren responds to Erwin’s question with another question.

“No need to be so formal, Eren.” Erwin’s gaze finally drifts to him. “You’ll save yourself some embarrassment the quicker you drop your old habits.”

Eren grimaces. Embarrassing, for sure.

“Who am I, Eren?” the man points to himself, the smallest tilt of his lips upward visible.

“You're Erwin Smith, the 13th commander of the Scouting Legion, a well respected man, an excellent strategist, and the best possible person to be commander after the fall of Wall Maria,” Eren blurts, then ducks his head to hide his embarrassment.

“I’m glad you hold me to such a high regard,” Erwin laughs slightly, tilting his head in acknowledgement, “but I am no longer your commander.”

“Yes, sir,” Eren responds quickly, then winces at his mistake. “Uh, sorry. It’s going to take me a while. But I mean what I said. I can’t imagine anyone else as commander during such a crucial time.”

“I wonder if Levi ever told you of my selfishness,” Erwin wonders aloud. 

Erwin’s… selfishness?

“Ah.” Erwin looks away. Something in Eren’s eyes must have given him away. “The final moments before my death, I was reluctant to act. We were so close to reclaiming Shiganshina—to reclaiming your basement, and at that moment, my will to live was stronger than my duty to the survival of humanity as a whole.”

 _I know_ , Eren doesn’t say.

“I wanted to _live_ ,” Erwin says, with a hint of mourning. “I wanted to know.”

Erwin has a faraway look in his eyes, and then he sinks back to reality. “How many survived the encounter?”

“Hange, Levi Squad, and Floch,” Eren says, shaking his head when Erwin seems to be waiting for more. “That’s all.” 

Erwin’s eyes widen slightly at that, but acceptance comes quickly. “Then—you successfully killed—?”

“No,” Eren swallows. He prepares himself to spout half truths. “We only managed to capture Bertholdt, and by then, both you and Armin were the only ones left on the brink of death.”

“Armin, then?” Erwin answers his own question. 

“I—I acted rashly. Armin was—Armin is my best friend, and I wanted to save him so strongly at the time—and wanted for us to see the ocean together,” Eren admits. “But with how things proceeded after that, you would have been the better choice in the end.”

“There’s no use for what-if’s, Eren,” Erwin sighs. “It’s all in the permanent past now.”

“You never answered my question,” Eren redirects the conversation. “How did you know I lived past the encounter?”

“Out of everyone, you had the highest chance of survival. They were looking to kidnap you, not kill you,” Erwin explains with something that looks like caution in his eyes. “However, I don’t know how long you lived past the encounter. Also, you called the Beast Titan a ‘he’, so you must have met him at some point in the future.”

Eren pales at that, but Erwin shakes his head. “Eren, there’s no point for either of us to hide any information. After all, what happened was either all in the past or a collective fever dream. I harbor no long term resentments.”

“... I need some time,” Eren says, turning his gaze away from Erwin and to something written on the board upfront.

“Time is something we have plenty of, now,” Erwin chuckles lightly. 

A sudden thought strikes him.

“Erwin-danchou,” Eren begins to say, but flusters when Erwin shakes his head at the title. “Uh, just Erwin, then. My ‘parents’ are kinda upset that my World History grade is so low, so they’ve banned any after school activity for me, and since you’re the one teaching it—”

“—I should arrange for you to stay after school to attend tutoring, under the guise of you wanting to raise your grade,” Erwin finishes with a nod of agreement. “You do understand that you actually need to show progress in slight increments in order for this to work?”

Eren waves his hand halfheartedly. “I can do it. You’ve taught me more in an hour than all those substitutes have in months.”

“Very well,” Erwin concludes, but Eren can tell that he’s _i_ _tching_ to ask about the basement.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” Eren slings his backpack over his shoulder.

“Tomorrow.” Erwin unlocks the classroom door.

When Eren finally leaves, it’s obvious who has the upper hand.


End file.
